Summer Time, And The Living Is Easy
by themagicofgina
Summary: They had their summer all planned out - Blaine would go off to Chicago and work at Six Flags, while Kurt stayed in Ohio and wrote Pip Pip Hooray. Just because that didn't work out, didn't mean they couldn't have a good summer... Right? M for later.
1. Hissy Fit

**A/N: so, here goes my attempt at a summer!Klaine fic. It's going to be a multi-chapter and I hope you all like it! Please review, else I get paranoid!**

He knew that he was being petulant. He knew it was childish. He knew that it wouldn't change anything. But he didn't care, quite frankly. He was going to sulk whether they liked it or not.

"Blaine, honey..." although her voice was muffled by the door, Emily Anderson's concern was clear just from those two words. The pet names were usually reserved for after his father had made a particularly ignorant remark. "Is everything okay? You've been in there quite a while..."

So maybe locking himself in the family bathroom hadn't been his proudest of moments; but there was something quite calming about the cool press of the tiles into his back, and the steady drip of the tap. Actually, the latter was quite annoying, but he really couldn't be bothered to stand up and turn it off. Anyway, it was better than the sheet music, which was spread across his bedroom, mocking him, or having to go downstairs and listen to his father's attempts to be sympathetic. Almost anything would be better than that.

"M'fine, Mom."

Even through the heavy wood separating them, he could hear her disbelieving sigh. She didn't push it, though, which he was thankful for. Blaine waited 'til he could no longer hear her footsteps in the hallway before he let his head fall back with a groan. It hurt more than he expected it to.

Great, now he was an unemployed spoiled soloist with an aching skull and a numb bottom. This evening was just getting better and better. And he couldn't even call Kurt because Mercedes was going away on holiday the following day and Blaine really didn't want to be that kind of clingy boyfriend. He wasn't that desperate.

Yet.

Instead, he would just sit there and obsess over what could have possibly happened for this to occur. Excluding Jeremiah (which he did because, honestly, he didn't really know what he had been thinking), he hadn't been turned down based on a performance for over a year. Even the kids at McKinley had loved him, and from what he had heard, that was quite an achievement.

Stupid McKinley. Simply hours ago, he'd been bemoaning their stupidly short summer holidays (well, compared to Dalton's). Now he simply disliked them for inflating his ego. Not that he wanted them to be hostile... But if Dalton was gay Hogwarts, then surely McKinley should have been his jolt into the real world.

He was definitely in the real world now.

And it sucked.

_He_sucked. And not in the fun way. How had he become so arrogant? When had he begun to expect everything to be handed to him on a plate? When exactly had he turned into a full on prep boy? Stupid blazer.

Before his angst spiral could descend much further, his thoughts were thankfully interrupted by the tinny opening bars of "Candles" playing from his pocket.

The phone was clamped to the side of his head pretty much instantaneously. "I thought you were at Mercedes' house."

His boyfriend chuckled warmly, and Blaine's heart didn't feel quite so heavy anymore. "Well hello to you too, dear. Yeah, she kicked me out about ten minutes ago. Very suspicious. You're on the speaker in my car right now." Blaine made a little noise of contented understanding, causing Kurt to giggle again. "So whatcha up to?"

Blaine hesitated. He was pretty certain there was no way to say hiding out in the bathroom without sounding like a total dork. "Errr... Just hanging out really?" he offered nervously.

"Where are you, you sound all echo-y?"

"Errr... In my bathroom?"

Kurt was silent for a few moments. "Blaine," he finally said, "I swear to God, if you are pooping right now, I am hanging up."

"No, no, no!" Blaine assured him hurriedly. "I swear I'm not pooping!"

"Good, because else we would need to have a serious talk. Why exactly are you hanging out in your bathroom?"

Blaine sighed. He wouldn't lie to Kurt. He couldn't. "Six Flags rejected me."

"Oh… Well then, they're just idiots!"

"Kurt..."

"Did they say why?"

"I wasn't what they were looking for apparently."

"They're blind. And deaf. You are awesome, baby." Blaine's heart fluttered slightly at the use of the pet name. "And I'm not just saying that because I love you. I really thought you had that in the bag..." it was to his credit that Kurt didn't mention that Blaine had decided against all of his own song suggestions. He probably should have listened, in retrospect. Just another example of him thinking he knew best.

"Am I arrogant?" the words were tumbling out of Blaine's mouth before he'd even really processed them. Crap. The line was quiet, meaning the rush of blood in his ears seemed even louder. Please, please, please, he prayed internally, let Kurt say...

"No. No, why would you even think that?"

Blaine exhaled in relief. "Just..."

"I mean, you know you're good. But I wouldn't say arrogant..." his heart dropped slightly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't be dating you if your ego was too big. Too much competition," Kurt joked but Blaine didn't feel much like laughing. Kurt's words only half-assured him. He settled instead for a non-committal grunt. "Blaine..." his boyfriend hesitated before continuing quietly, "There is a difference in becoming accustomed to succeeding and being arrogant. You work hard, and you're awarded solos because of that. You don't just expect them to be handed to you..."

"That's not what you said before regionals," Blaine countered sadly.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Blaine. I said you got all the solos, which was true." Kurt's tone hardened and Blaine immediately regretted his accusatory words. Kurt was right -of course - and thinking logically while Blaine was just caught up in his own pity party. "Being rejected is not something you're used to." His boyfriend's voice was soft and comforting again and for about the millionth time, Blaine marvelled at how lucky he was to have him. "Shock and arrogance are not the same thing. And you are not arrogant."

Blaine managed a weak smile. "I'm being silly, aren't I?"

"Just a little. But don't worry, I think it's adorable," Kurt quipped, only half teasing.

"I love you."

"I'm glad."

"We're playing this game now, are we?"

"What game?"

"Kurt!"

"Blaine!"

"Right that's it - I'm never leaving this bathroom again."

"You know there is a line between adorable and weird..."

"You're mean."

"You love me anyway."

"Fine," Blaine huffed in mock annoyance- Kurt had him there, that was for sure. "I am leaving the bathroom! Happy now?" he could practically hear his boyfriend's eyes rolling through the phone as he hauled himself onto his feet and out the door.

"Hey Blaine..."

"Yes Kurt?" Blaine said, balancing his cell between his jaw and his shoulder to wave at his mother who had just appeared from her own room and was now beaming happily at him.

"I love you."

He paused mid gesture - he didn't think he would ever get used to hearing Kurt say those three words to him.

"I love you too." Smiling to himself (and pointedly ignoring his mom's hastily stifled squeal), he ducked into his room and surveyed the damage. He let out a little hiss. "Ouch."

"What?"

"Oh nothing…" even though Kurt couldn't see, Blaine still flushed embarrassedly at the paper-covered state of his floor. "I might or might not have thrown some sheet music around in a hissy fit earlier…"

Thankfully, rather than informing him that he was in fact arrogant and ridiculous and promptly breaking up with him, Kurt simply chuckled. "Well, you do have a particular penchant for that. I think I still have some of Nick's geography notes which got muddled in with mine during Misery…"

"Sorry about that." He bent down and began to sift through various scores when he was suddenly reminded of something. "Hey! I thought of a positive side to all this!"

"Pray tell."

"I can help you out with your Pippa Middleton musical now! Seeing as I'll be here, rather than in Chicago, we'll be able to hang out all summer!" Blaine bounced happily on the balls on his feet and waited for his boyfriend to respond with equal levels of excitement. However, he didn't and Blaine's happy mood evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. "I mean, only if you want to that is…"

"No, no, no!" Kurt insisted hurriedly, and Blaine's panic subsided just a little. "Of course I _want_ to…"

"But?"

"But… I sort of thought you'd be gone all summer and one of the guys who works for my Dad had to take emergency leave so I said I'd cover for him…"

"Oh…"

"I'm sorry Blaine… It's just, what with him having to train up Finn and two of the other mechanics going away at different points, he just really needs me."

"Of course," Blaine attempted to sound cheerful, "That's totally understandable. I totally get it… Yeah… So when do you start?"

"Monday. Blaine, I…"

"Can I see you tomorrow then?" Blaine interrupted, trying not to let the desperation creep through. Monday... so soon. And then it was the whole summer, with him stuck at home and Kurt off working. If he'd been slightly less despairing, he would have appreciated the irony of the flip from what they had originally thought the summer would be like.

He could hear Kurt wincing. "I'm sorry baby. I said I'd drop the Jones' off at the airport. And then Finn's dragging me along to some male bonding thing at Puck's. I can get out of it! Or ask if you could come too…"

Blaine shook his head sadly. "They're your friends Kurt; I'm not going to drag you away from them."

"It won't be so bad. I mean, it's not like I'll be working every day and I'll be free in the evenings. Just you wait, Anderson – we're going to have a great summer," Kurt assured him decidedly.

How Blaine wished he could share Kurt's optimism.

* * *

><p>Despite his occasional lack of faith, Blaine really did strive to be a good boyfriend. He was always punctual for their dates, always honest, showered Kurt in compliments and made sure he always knew just how amazing he was. He was careful not to ask for too much and was always respectful of their boundaries (even if most of them had been set down by Burt rather than either of them . He charmed Carole, talked football with Finn and made sure Kurt was always home before curfew and never too obviously disheveled.<p>

And he did so without complaint, because honestly, he rather enjoyed it. His heart swelled whenever Carole called him sweetie or Burt greeted him as kiddo. Seeing Kurt blush whenever Blaine checked him out never failed to widen his smirk. Making Kurt happy made him happy.

So of course, when he received a text from Kurt asking if, rather than Blaine picking him up at 8 for their Tuesday night date, he could give him a lift home from the shop at six and then they could hang out there until the film, he immediately said yes, no questions asked.

In fact, he was ten minutes early; he'd been driven out of his mind with boredom over the past couple of days and relished the opportunity to get out of the house as soon as possible.

Practically humming with excitement, he smoothed down his very carefully selected outfit (hey, it had killed a couple of hours) and strode into Hummel Tires and Lube. His eyes quickly located his boyfriend, who was bent under the hood of a rather beaten up looking pick-up in a set of rather form fitting grey overalls. To be honest, he wouldn't be surprised if Kurt had tailored them himself. Blaine could appreciate the end result however it had been achieved though and he did for a moment before remembering that checking out your boyfriend's ass in his dad's garage was hardly appropriate behaviour. Instead he settled for sidling up behind him. "Hey you," he practically purred.

"Crap," Kurt swore loudly, almost hitting his head as he leapt up and sent a spanner clattering to the floor. Blaine frowned - not quite the reaction he'd been going for.

"You okay?" he ventured cautiously as he bent down to retrieve the dropped tool. Kurt wordlessly accepted it from him and resumed what he'd been doing. "Kurt..."

Kurt gave one final wrench before dropping the hood and turning to face his boyfriend. Blaine was struck by how gorgeous he looked; really he didn't know why Kurt bothered with all his fancy getting ready routines. He took Blaine's breath even now, with his hair all messed up and a streak of oil across his forehead where he had clearly gone to wipe off the sweat in the blazing Ohio sunshine. "Sorry," he sighed wearily, breaking Blaine out of his trance, "Just kind of stressed. Dad had to take Finn to the hospital and I..." His eyes widened in horror as he trailed off, "Please tell me you're early and it's not six o'clock already..."

"I'm early and it's not six o'clock already... It's about 5:53... Why's Finn gone to the hospital?"

"Not important right now," Kurt dismissed as he began to run across the garage, "Oh double crap! Mark?"

Another guy in the uniform overalls (although he didn't look nearly as good as Kurt did in his) poked his head out from around the corner of the office. He was about 30 or so with cropped blonde hair and a weather beaten yet kind face. He was also very tall; Blaine had a tendency to notice these kinds of things first about people. "What's up Kurt?" he called as the lithe boy skidded to a halt in front of a workbench.

"You busy?"

"On the phone with a customer, sorry."

"And Andy?"

"He's out on a call."

"Crap," Kurt swore again, desperately rooting through one of the toolboxes in front of him.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that we're closing in 5 minutes and my Dad was meant to be back by now and I need to go through the book and count up before I send Mark home and I don't where Andy is with the truck and I haven't done Mr. Thompson's oil change yet and he's coming in tocollect first thing tomorrow morning and my stupid stepbrother..."

"Okay, breathe baby," Blaine leapt in before his boyfriend could give himself an aneurysm. "Just breathe... In and out... There we go..."

"It's just..."

"I know... But stressing out won't help anyone. So, here is what we're going to do - you're going to go and do the books and ask Mark to start closing up and give Andy a ring..."

"But Mr. Thompson…"

"Ah ah ah, let me finish. I'll do Mr. Thompson's oil." Blaine smiled proudly.

"Are you..."

"Yes, I'm sure. You just need to point me in the right direction."

Kurt shook his head disbelievingly. "God, I love you," he muttered as he darted away again to find Blaine some overalls. Blaine simply beamed after him.

Forty minutes later and Blaine was turning his keys in the ignition and pulling out of the lot with a sleepy but satisfied Kurt beside him.

"See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" Blaine said, only a tiny bit smug.

"I suppose not... And Mark was very impressed with you."

"It was only an oil change Kurt."

"But still, you did it well and I was very proud." Kurt reached out across the console and gave his free hand a light squeeze.

"Gee, thanks," Blaine rolled his eyes good-naturedly, although the affect was rather lost as he lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth and pressed a dry kiss to Kurt's skin. "So what exactly happened to Finn?"

His boyfriend groaned loudly. "Uncontrolled growth spurts happened to Finn. I swear that boy has no sense of balance - he tripped over his own feet as we were coming off lunch, went sprawling on the floor and managed to land awkwardly on his arm. Last time I saw him, his elbow was bent the wrong way."

"Ouch... Poor Finn."

"Poor Finn?" Kurt squawked indecorously, "Poor me! He's left us one mechanic down for the whole summer! We were quiet today and I've still been rushed off my feet for the past five hours!"

"Aww, brotherly love..."

"Oh hush your mouth Anderson."

"Make me," Blaine waggled his eyebrows in a manner which was meant to be suggestive.

Kurt just snorted. "How about you just focus on getting us home safe, rather than waving those triangles at me?"

Blaine mock pouted but obliged and pretty soon they were pulling up outside the Hummel-Hudson residence, both singing along loudly to the Rihanna song which was playing on the radio.

"Do you think…"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Blaine protested, killing the ignition as Kurt began to clamber out.

"No, the Warblers totally couldn't pull off an acapella version of S&M." he didn't even turn around as he said it – he merely called over his shoulder as he sashayed up to the house. Blaine cussed under his breath - partly in annoyance 'cause he could have used some awesome show faces for that and partly out of pleasant surprise at how well Kurt actually knew him. Although it would be more than a little freaky if Kurt somehow had started to read his mind... "Are you coming in or what?"

Blaine smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, of course I am."

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Blaine wasn't quite sure how he'd got here. How he'd got so lucky.<p>

Now was one of those times. After cleaning themselves up a little, they'd decided to skip the movie and stay in and eat leftover lasagne instead, before curling up on the sofa together to watch some trashy sitcom. They'd started off with Kurt leaning on his shoulder, then with his head in his lap as Blaine played lightly with his hair line and now, after deeming the show as 'worse than Rachel's new penguin sweater', Kurt had him pressed into the cushions, their mouths moving together lazily.

Yup. Blaine really had no idea how he'd gotten so lucky.

Just when Kurt had discovered how to do something marvellous involving his tongue and Blaine's palate however, Blaine's luck ran out.

"Boys?" the slam of the front door carried through to the lounge and the couple hastily separated with a loud pop. A torrent of cusses tumbled out of Kurt's kiss-swollen lips as he hastily tried to straighten his shirt while Blaine shifted uncomfortably at the slight tightness in his trousers. "Anyone home?"

"In here, Dad." Kurt's voice sounded a bit rough and it really wasn't helping Blaine's, ahem, situation, to know that he was the one to cause that.

"Oh, hi." A rather tired looking Burt appeared around the doorway, appraising the scene in front of him with a knowing (if slightly disgruntled) look. "I thought that you were heading out, but then I saw both your cars…"

"Had to stay a bit late at the shop," Kurt interrupted with an explanation before his father's mind could create potential scenarios that would give him another heart attack, "And then we were tired so we decided to skip the movie and just stay here instead."

"How were things up there?" Burt asked with a wince, pre-empting Kurt's answer.

"Not so great. Busy. We finished at 6:40 and that was with Blaine helping out with an oil change."

"Lots of customers?" Kurt shook his head. "Well damn…"

"If Finn hadn't had been such an…"

"Hey! It wasn't Finn's fault," Burt reprimanded firmly. "These things happen, and we just have to deal with them the best we can."

"Is he okay?" Blaine inquired carefully, thanking God that his voice sounded relatively normal.

"He broke his arm. A clean break, but still, he'll be in a cast for the next couple of months or so." Burt sighed wearily, "Carole's with him; they're waiting to get the cast put on. So we'll all have to be extra nice to him for a while." He looked pointedly at his son, "It's his right arm, so he's going to be fairly frustrated for the next six weeks."

Kurt had the decency to look abashed as he rose to his feet. "I'm going to make them a cold spread or something for when they get home. Finn will be hungry," he said quietly before sweeping out of the room in the direction of the kitchen. Burt smiled approvingly after him before sitting down in the armchair next to where Blaine was.

"So, you helped out in the shop this evening?"

Blaine swallowed nervously. "Only Mr. Thompson's oil change."

"Well, thanks anyway… Don't suppose you want a job?" Blaine gave a little chuckle. Burt however didn't. "I'm serious kid. You actually know something about cars and it'd mainly be the small jobs and admin, but Kurt said that you didn't get that theme park thing and I'm a bit desperate here…"

A whole summer with Kurt? Blaine barely had to think about it.

"I'm in."


	2. I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

**A/N: First and foremost, I am so so sorry about how long this took. I was crazy busy before I went away, then I was on holiday for 8 days and came back to riots in London (where I live) before leaving again a few days later. So I finally got home and managed to write it, and meant to have it up yesterday but couldn't get hold of my beta and yeah… I'm sorry, it's been a hectic month. But TADAH. Oh and I go away AGAIN tomorrow. But anyway, I hope you like and review and shit… **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

><p>Blaine actually found himself enjoying working in Hummel's Tires and Lube more than he expected (not that he had expected it to be bad, of course). His parents, who had thought he would be in Chicago all summer anyway, didn't care that he was off in Lma so much and honestly, he suspected that for his father, the 'benefits' of Blaine doing manual work outweighed the 'cons' of him working with Kurt all day, every day, so he barely kicked up a fuss.<p>

Plus, he wasn't really working _with_ Kurt. He was working in the same building as Kurt, trying desperately not to ogle him all day. 'With' would imply that their work was somehow on the same level, when really watching Kurt just made Blaine feel like a chimp that was banging a wrench aout.

"Don't feel bad babe," Kurt had assured him when Blaine had mentioned it when they were alone in the office one day. "After my mom died, I came here every day after school and every Saturday. I picked stuff up."

"Every day? You couldn't get a sitter?"

"I didn't want a sitter. I just wanted to be with my Dad. I didn't have many friends back then either, Blaine."

Blaine had simply wrapped his arms around Kurt and squeezed tight, pressing feather light kisses onto his face until Mark had walked in and awkwardly cleared his throat.

Slight PDA issues aside, the other guys that worked there were a good group. There was Burt, of course, Mark (who apparently had aged very well and had actually been working there since before Kurt's mom had passed), Andy (who was only a few years older than he was and found everything absolutely hilarious, and that included making inappropriate jokes when Burt was standing right there) and Stan. Blaine had been slightly nervous when he'd first met Stan; aging Christians from Kansas tended not to look too fondly upon people like him and Kurt. Unlike Mark, he hadn't been there that long, only taking the job last year after he found that retiring and relocating to Lima was actually quite boring if there was nothing to fill your time with. However, he had merely nodded politely at Blaine before getting back on with his work and Blaine honestly doubted that Burt would employ anyone who didn't respect his son, so Blaine settled in quite nicely.

Mostly, he either handled the simple jobs or the general customer relations side of things. Burt knew that when dealing with transport-less Ohio residents, a little charm went a long way, and charm was something Blaine had by the bundle (oh the joys of private school education). He also did some of the basic admin jobs, like helping out with inventory or sorting out the shift schedule (there were between four and five of them in at a time, and somehow he and Kurt were yet to work separately). It wasn't particularly strenuous or enthralling, but it was satisfying nonetheless and, hey, it beat sitting around at home waiting for Kurt to be free.

Because Blaine was realistic. He knew that if he wasn't currently listening to Andy and Mark debate the merits of the Titans' last season, he would probably be dancing around his room to the Rent soundtrack.

"Hey, kid," Burt leant across the counter, "What's in that sandwich? Smells real good..."

Blaine swallowed the mouthful he had just taken with some difficulty. "Uh, meatballs, cheese and a bit of salad? It is pretty good…"

"Getting bored of your rice cakes and grapefruit, eh Burt?" Andy teased lightly. "I don't blame you."

"Hey, does anyone want the rest of this pizza?" Mark pushed the mostly empty box away from him. "Tanya has bought stuff for a barbeque tonight, and I don't want to spoil my appetite."

"Don't even think about it, Dad," Kurt scolded, swatting at his hand. "It's not good for you. And you guys shouldn't try and tempt him." He looked around pointedly at the other men, finishing with Blaine and letting out a slightly annoyed sigh.

Blaine tried to eat the rest of his lunch as quickly as possible.

The next day, he ate decidedly more healthily.

"Cor, you're kept on a short leash, aren't you?" Andy laughed as Blaine set his hummus and pitta bread down on the counter.

"Excuse me?"

"Kurt's got you eating rabbit food too then? I swear that boy won't stop 'til we're all pooping lettuce!"

"Kurt didn't tell me to eat this."

"Riiight... Of course he didn't. He doesn't monitor everything that his Dad eats either..."

Carefully, Blaine leant in closer so that his boyfriend, who was out in the front talking to Burt, wouldn't over hear. "Listen Andy, Kurt is just trying to make sure that his dad isn't hospitalised again. Considering the percentage of people who have second heart attacks, I think it's fair enough that he wants to keep his cholesterol low. And as for me - hey, when you're dating someone as gorgeous as Kurt, you'll try and keep up as best you can."

There was an impressed snort from the corner and Blaine couldn't help but turn slightly crimson as Andy turned to Mark with something akin to betrayal in his eyes.

"What? You just got your ass handed to you by a seventeen year old - it was funny!"

"What was funny?" Kurt swung into the kitchen area, almost startling Blaine off of his stool.

"Err..."

"Mrs. Keene came in this morning and she said that her engine was making a strange

mewling noise. Well I told her…" Blaine mouthed a 'thank you' across to Mark who had launched into the story and saved him from umm-ing and ahh-ing like an idiot. Kurt pressed a kiss into his hairline before leaning back against him, allowing Blaine to wrap an arm around his trim waist and pull him closer.

Blaine caught Mark's small smile at the gesture.

Yeah, he definitely liked working here.

* * *

><p>"I heard what you said earlier," Kurt announced randomly when they were in Blaine's car that evening. They didn't spend so much time at the Hummel-Hudson residence as of late, as Blaine liked to go home and take a long shower after work. He couldn't really justify spending all of his wages on gas for driving between Westerville and Lima four times a day, so instead Blaine would give Kurt a ride home whilst Burt stayed to close up.<p>

Blaine very nearly crashed into the car in front of them at the lights. "Uhh…"

"Not all of it," Kurt continued, sounding just as cool as before his boyfriend had almost killed them, "Only the bit about you keeping up with me."

"Right… well…"

"I'm glad that you're eating healthily. Not that you need to change at all, but the body is a temple and all that…"

"Yeah, totally…"

"Do you really think I'm gorgeous?"

It took Blaine a second to process the question as he changed gear and pulled away from the crossroads, down towards Kurt's home. "Of course I do," he promised quietly. Kurt smiled.

Neither of them spoke again until they reached home, content just to pretend they weren't sneaking glances at each other and grinning bashfully when their eyes met.

"Do you want to come in?" Kurt said, hand hovering over his seatbelt as Blaine put the car in park.

"Yeah. I'd like that," Blaine answered, his voice cracking slightly. He killed the engine and clambered out, following Kurt up the driveway and into the house. Carefully, Kurt opened the door, gesturing for Blaine to stay quiet as he removed his shoes and listened out for any signs of his family.

Excluding Finn's gentle snores from the living room, the house was silent. The two boys smirked at each other and intertwined their slightly sweaty hands before making their way up the stairs, towards Kurt's room. They left the bedroom door wedged open by a few centimetres behind them (technically still obeying the rules that Burt had very firmly set down) and separated, Blaine settling back on the bed as Kurt hurriedly selected a playlist on his iPod, soft acoustic guitar drifting out of his speakers.

He turned back to face him, looking slightly apprehensive.

"Kurt, we don't have to... I don't…"

"Just shut up, Blaine." The slimmer boy surged forward and stilled his boyfriend's mouth with his own. "I want this," he murmured against his lips, before giving them a gentle nip.

Blaine wasn't going to argue with that. He allowed himself to be pushed back into the mattress, revelling in the warmth of Kurt's body on top of his own. They were both still slightly grimy and clammy, but neither of them cared as their breath intermingled and lips moved slowly together. He was pretty certain that he could stay here forever, their torsos pressed close, kissing softly and Kurt's hand ghosting down towards the hem of his t-shirt. _Oh. _His breathing hitched as long fingers drummed lightly across his stomach.

"Can I?" Kurt lifted his head away, glasz eyes searching across Blaine's features for the smallest sign of doubt at this new territory. He received only a swift and eager nod in response.

"You too though…" Blaine added. "Please." They both shifted so that they were sitting upright, regretting the space that this created between them. This was swiftly eradicated though as they both slowly began to peel off their t-shirts; eyes' roaming hungrily as more skin was exposed. The stretch and ripple of his slight muscles as Kurt pulled his top over his head was enough to drive Blaine wild. He discarded his own top before reaching out to grip lightly at Kurt's waist, thumbing over the smooth, porcelain skin there. "God, Kurt…" he managed to choke out, "You're so beautiful."

The slender countertenor blushed and lowered his gaze. "You too," he murmured before crawling into his boyfriend's lap and beginning to press open mouthed kisses along his collar bone. Blaine let out a shuddering gasp which shook both of their bodies as they gradually became dirtier and deeper, Kurt moaning around his flesh as he nipped and licked and adored the olive skin beneath his lips.

Those lips. Blaine could spend his entire life worshipping those lips. They deserved to have odes written about them or statues built in their honour. They deserved their own fucking theme park or something. And Blaine would so do that. He would write songs and builds hit and all that kind of stuff… just as soon as he stopped melting beneath them, which he secretly hoped he never would.

Unfortunately, he could always rely on the universe to be a cockblock. A loud crash echoed from downstairs and Kurt pulled away from him with a wet slurp (which really put the final nail in the coffin when it came to mood killing) and cocked his head curiously.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered, his voice slightly rough and lips glistening with saliva. Given the potential seriousness of the situation, Blaine should really not have been as turned on by that as he was but hell… "Oh my God, what if it was a burglar? Oh my God, Blaine, we're being burgled! Shit! And Finn's down there! Shit, Blaine, do something!"

"Wait, what?"

"Blaaaaaaine!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Go down and stop him or something! And put on a shirt! I'm going to get my Dad's bat from their room…"

For some reason, he was far from comforted that Burt Hummel slept with a heavy weapon, useful as it may be right then. Keeping an eye on the door which his boyfriend had just creeped out of, he hurriedly tried to pull his abandoned t-shirt back on, only getting slightly tangled.

"What's the plan then?" Blaine hissed as Kurt reappeared, wielding a large, wooden baseball bat, and still decidedly half naked.

"Right, you go down first and get his attention, and then I leap in and knock him out." Kurt's words were punctuated by a loud groan echoing around the house and both boys' eyes widened with fear. "Crap, Blaine, what if there is more than one of them?"

"Shouldn't we call the cops?"

"No time!" Kurt shook his head desperately, "Finn's down there! We'll just… improvise…"

"Shit…" Blaine tried to run his hand through his hair but was met with firm resistance from a mixture of gel and grime – not exactly a pleasant feeling, but also not his focus right now. In front of him, Kurt snatched up his own top from the bed, wrapping it around his hand firmly before nodding at the door. Taking a deep breath, in a failed attempt to calm his pounding heart, he led the way out into the hallway.

Slowly, and trying to be as quiet as physically possible, they made their way down the stairs. Blaine peered about cautiously – there was no one in sight.

"Lounge?" he mouthed up to Kurt who gave a quick nod in response and tightened his grip around the bat before they moved on.

"Wait…" Kurt hissed, "Your shirt's inside out."

Blaine turned to him in disbelief. _'Really? Now was the time to be fashion conscious?' _He shook his head to show he didn't care before shuffling further forwards, edging carefully into the living room.

Strange – here was empty too. Well apart from a snuffling Finn who was sprawled across the sofa with his broken arm up at an awkward angle on the neighbouring coffee table… which should really have had a vase sitting on it?

"Crap!" Kurt yelled, all premise of hush flying out the window in his frustration, "That was Carole's favourite! Stupid, clumsy, oaf of a boy…" he shoved his weapon into Blaine's hands as he moved around him to inspect the damage. Sure enough, surrounded by a puddle of water and a few gerbera daisies, was Carole's antique vase, smashed into hundreds of tiny ceramic shards. Finn must have certainly hit it with some force, even whilst asleep ('_how the hell had he slept through that crash?')_ although the cast probably aided in the destruction. Kurt poked his stepbrother viciously in the ribs. "Finn! Finn wake up!"

Finn merely mumbled something incomprehensible and snuggled deeper into the settee cushions.

"Blaine, give me the bat."

"Kurt, he is injured already…"

"Just give me the bat!" Wincing slightly, Blaine handed it across to his glowering boyfriend, who then proceeded to prod Finn with it. Hard.

"Whaa'?"

"Sorry, did we disturb you Finn?" Kurt's voice was sickly sweet, but you would have to be a fool to miss the underlying anger there. And obtuse as he might be sometimes, Finn wasn't a fool.

"Why are you getting all pissy at me?" He grumbled as he reached up to rub blearily at his eyes. "I was asleep!"

"I know! And while you were asleep, you punched your mum's vase with that stupid cast! It's destroyed!"

The taller boy visibly paled. "Shit… Wait… why are you half naked?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Because, Finn, we thought we were being burgled. Here, hold this," he thrust the bat at him unceremoniously. "And try not to break anything." He unwadded his old 'Hummel Tire's and Lube' shirt and hastily pulled it on over his head.

That was then they heard the sound of keys turning in the front door and Blaine let out a little groan. As if this couldn't get much more awkward.

"Boys!" Burt called from the hallway, "I'm home!"

"We're in the living room, Dad," Kurt said loudly, looking very pointedly at Finn as if to say 'do not mention my former state of undress and we will attempt to cover for you.'

It wasn't necessary however. Burt could tell as soon as he stepped in that something very suspicious was going on – Blaine could see it on his face as he took in Kurt and his rumpled appearance, Finn's guilty shifting and the pool of water with broken vase in it which sat at the foot of his settee.

"Right," he sighed wearily, "Let's start with the baseball bat, shall we?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please let me know what you think. I'll try and update ASAP, but I wouldn't hold your breath.**


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